


Ninety-Nine Percent Chance of Success

by ziskandra



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: EDI forever learning about human emotions, Gen, just so both sam and EDI can LIVE, post control-ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 17:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17370302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: Having confidently identified the problem, EDI works towards finding a solution.Upon reuniting with a despondent Samantha Traynor several years after The Reaper War, EDI makes it a mission to cheer up her old friend.





	Ninety-Nine Percent Chance of Success

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Mass Effect Mini Reverse Big Bang! Thank you to my artist, [ramblingandpie](http://ramblingandpie.tumblr.com/) for her lovely and inspirational work. Without it, I don't think I'd ever have had the courage to give writing EDI a shot. 
> 
> It was a lot of fun!

 

“Oh, hello, EDI! I didn’t see you there.” Specialist Traynor beams as she straightens upwards, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile, however, does not quite meet her eyes and her Alliance uniform, usually fresh and crisp, looks as though it had been slept in for days. 

It’s been almost five years since they had last seen each other, three since the last time they’d even exchanged an email. “It’s been a while,” EDI agrees with a tilt of the head. “Longer than I would have liked.”

That admission brings a slight twitch of amusement to Samantha’s lips, but it’s short-lived as her face soon settles back into a frown. “I’m sorry,” she starts, not quite looking EDI in the eyes. “I’ve not been avoiding you.”   
  
Fortunately, EDI does not need to hold Samantha’s gaze to assess the source of the problem. Firstly, there’s the dishevelled state of the specialist’s clothing: the Samantha EDI had known would never have turned up to work dressed like this. Secondly, there is the woman’s downtrodden demeanour: EDI doesn’t have to be a highly-advanced artificial intelligence to know that Samantha is in physiological distress. 

The third, and most obvious sign, however, is the complete absence of the physical signs of arousal that Samantha usually displayed whenever she heard EDI’s voice. Oh, she’d tried to mask them ever since she’d become aware of EDI’s true nature, but there’s no hiding symptoms from EDI. EDI knows. She always knows. 

“It’s not me you’ve been avoiding,” EDI answers without a moment of hesitation. There are times, she has learnt, for subtlety, for ‘beating around the bush’ as the humans like to say. But Samantha is an old friend, and EDI has always preferred to chart the most direct path. 

Samantha’s shoulders slump ever-so-slightly, but the action does not escape EDI’s notice. “Oh, I know, I know.” She pauses, swallowing a lump in her throat. “It’s just… being back here is harder than I thought.”  


EDI takes in the view, watches the tears glisten in Samantha’s eyes as she looks across the bridge, up at the new Normandy. Samantha blinks, inhaling deeply, and continues, even though her voice begins to waver. “I’m fine, though, well and truly.”   
  
Unperturbed, EDI forges onwards. “You miss her.” The subject of their conversation goes unspoken, but there’s sometimes something to be said for inferences, EDI thinks.  
  
“Yeah,” Sam relents, “I do.”  
  
“I miss her too,” EDI confides. Her life has never been quite the same since she’d left the Normandy. So many of her processes had been so intrinsically linked to the ship for so long that her platform’s first foray beyond its range had felt like leaving home. She’d been able to emulate emotion for as long as she’d been self-aware, but it was the first time she’d simply just been _sad_. Now that they’re building more Normandy-class frigates, EDI’s been called into work more often. It’s nice to have a purpose again, to spend time with old friends. Jeff likes to pretend that he hasn’t changed a bit, but EDI knows there’s more wrinkles near the corner of his eyes. His life is different now. They all are. 

Having confidently identified Samantha’s problem, EDI works towards finding a solution. Throughout her travels with Commander Shepard, EDI has discovered that some humans do not like being confronted directly with their feelings. While she has not had quite as many interactions with Samantha to draw experience on, she knows that Sam and the commander were close. What is the best way to deal with this situation? According to her simulations, there is aroute that leads to a ninety-nine percent chance of success. Those are not terrible odds, so EDI course-corrects. “Remember when she met her clone?” 

Sam looks taken aback for a moment, although she soon recovers quickly. “How could I forget? My Cision Mark Pro IV saved the day!” She holds her hand aloft as she’d held it during that fateful moment several years ago. 

EDI smiles. “I doubt you have had a more useful toothbrush since.”

Quickly dropping her arm, Sam admits, “Well, they _did_ just release the newest model. The Cision Mark Pro VII. I’m still saving up for it, myself.”  
  
EDI, not having teeth or gums, can’t help but admire Samantha’s dedication to oral hygiene, even if she does not understand or truly empathise with it. “What capabilities does this one have the the older versions do not?”

“Oh, more of the same, really. Just faster.” Sam flashes EDI a smile that’s more about showing off her pearly whites than anything else. EDI’s glad to see that even though Sam has seen better daysthat there is still more than a spark of the person she’d once known. 

“Interesting,” EDI says in response as she’s overcome with the torrent of questions she now wants to ask Samantha. It would be _so_ interesting for her research into human behaviours. But that’s not her task here, so instead, she focuses. Diverts. “Remember how ecstatic she was when she completed her model ship collection?”  
  
Samantha snorts. “‘Ecstatic’ might be an understatement.” She plants her feet a shoulder-width apart and balls her fists up by her side in an eerily-accurate imitation of their former commander. Brows furrowed, she continues, “If I find any one of you so much _breathing_ in the directions of my shelves…” Samantha pauses, inhaling sharply through her nose, “… breathing will soon be the _least_ of your problems.”  
  
“She loved her ships,” EDI agrees. “But as I do not breathe, it was not a very convincing threat.”  
  
Rolling her eyes, Samantha says, “As though any of us would ever enter the captain’s quarters without her express permission.”

EDI tilts her head.   
  
“Oh,” Samantha says, eyes widening in realisation. “I suppose you were always in her quarters, in a manner of speaking.” For a moment, she simply looks lost in thought. “Never mind, then.”  
  
Deciding it best not to pursue that line of discussion, EDI continues, “Remember when her hamster escaped?” 

Samantha makes a noise of dismay. “She didn’t even _name_ him!” she exclaims. “That’s no way to treat a pet.”  
  
“But she treated his recovery mission with the same solemnity as she did her other assignments. She assessed the crew she had on hand and made sure that no centimetre of the vessel was left unaccounted for.”  
  
“That’s because she thought he’d been kidnapped! Instead, we found him in the mess… cheeky little bastard was happily munching away on our rations without a care in the world. By the look of him, you’d think he’d not been fed in days! Well. The look on his face, that is, he was quite, what’s the word?” She gestures with her hands. “ _Rotund_. Probably still is, the way Dr. T’soni dotes on him.” 

“She was incredibly relieved to have found him.” EDI herself hadn’t quite understood the Commander’s attachment at the time, although the speech the woman had delivered afterwards had helped clarify matters somewhat.  
  
“Oh yes,” Samantha agrees, “the way she scooped him up in her hands and told him not to ever go missing again! Didn’t even scold him for getting into the food.”  
  
“We are family,” EDI reminisces, one of the benefits and drawbacks of her perfect recollection.Her imitation of the commander’s voice is even more perfect than Samantha’s. It’s an unfair advantage. “Just because we’re a motley assortment of misfits doesn’t mean I won’t do the exact same thing for each and everyone one for you. Now, I’ve got to get this little guy back into his cage.” It’s not until she’s said the last sentence that EDI realises it most likely wasn’t an intended part of Shepard’s inspiring speech. 

She’s about to play it off as a joke when suddenly, surprisingly, Samantha bursts into laughter, the kind that ignites in the belly and explodes in the chest and although Samantha might not be truly happy in this moment, EDI can’t help but think it’s the first time her friend has laughed this hard in years. Although this is an outcome she had been working towards, now that she has achieved it, EDI is quite unsure of what to do with herself.   
  


“Oh, EDI, I could hug you!” Samantha explains once her laughs recede, a hand pressed against her stomach as though worried her insides might come tumbling out. The stance never ceases to be somewhat concerning: EDI’s not sure she’ll ever grow accustomed to how soft and vulnerable humans are.

“You can,” EDI replies firmly despite her building uncertainty. She’s not fond of the sensation because she is, by all accounts, an artificial intelligence, one that can perfectly adjust her behavioural paradigms with each new situation that confronts her. The first interaction is always the hardest, though, and what EDI is sure of is that she’s never quite been in a situation like this one before. 

The fact of the matter is, EDI doesn’t yet understand how these two events relate to each other, that is, Samantha’s elation and her desire to embrace. The only conclusion she can draw is that humans are affectionate when they are happy, even when they are not intoxicated, and even when the galaxy is not about to end. When EDI had first begun learning about humans, she’d thought that human bonding was primarily sexual, that when under duress, their underlying biological programming pushed them towards reproductive behaviours - even if the result of such a mating would not necessarily result in actual offspring. 

Yet, EDI has spent several years predominantly living amongst humans, although she’s certainly had a number of interactions with the rest of the galaxy’s species. And every day, she learns and she learns. She’s experienced teamwork and family and camaraderie and _friendship,_ and she’s coming to grips with the reality that being alive, a sentient being, is all about the links one makes with other people, no matter who they are, or where they come from. EDI can change people’s lives, maybe sometimes only slightly, but hopefully always for the better.  
  
So that’s why she doesn’t shy away when Sam throws her arms around her, holding her in a seemingly-firm grip that EDI could nonetheless break free from in an instant. “Huh,” Sam says, pulling away just enough to be heard when she speaks, “you’re warmer than I thought you would be.”  
  
EDI can’t avoid the easy quip. “Did you think that just because I am a synthetic, I am incapable of comfort?”  
  
Samantha loosens her grip, and EDI doesn’t even need to look to know that her friend’s eyes have widened in alarm. “No, no,” she stammers, “It’s not that, I—”

“I have flexible alloys in my skin that allow me to adjust my internal and external temperature,” EDI says, cutting Sam off with more than a hint of smugness. 

Sam bats at EDI’s arm as she lets go completely. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”   
  
“You did,” EDI confirms as Samantha holds her hands up in mock-resignation.  
  
“All right, all right,” Sam says with a wave, “No need to rub it in.”

“I will immediately cease with my abrasive processes,” EDI assures her, and Samantha laughs again.  
  
“I’m glad I ran into you,” she says. This time, when Sam smiles, it does truly reach her eyes.She reaches down, attempts to smooth some wrinkles from her fatigues with limited success. “We should get a drink sometime.” She pauses. “Do synthetics drink? You know what I mean. Gather some of the old crew, too, if they’re around. I haven’t seen them in far too long.” 

“James Vega and Kaidan Alenko are both in Vancouver,” EDI confirms. In the aftermath of the Reaper War, people have focused primarily on recovering their homeworlds. “As is Jeff Moreau,” she adds, although it almost goes without saying. At the end of the day, they’re never truly far from each other.

“Sounds like we’ve got a party!” Sam exclaims, before casting a guilty glance downwards at the crates piled up around her feet. “Oh, but look at the time! I’ve been stood here babbling on for far too long. I better get these requisitions on board before someone catches me slacking!” 

“Let me help,” EDI offers, “I was just heading in that direction.” It’s not even a lie: EDI did have business upon the Normandy today. Running into Samantha Traynor is just a pleasant distraction. 

“Oh, if it’s not too much of a bother,” Sam says, ducking down to heft a box in her arms. “I could use the assistance.”   
  
EDI wonders if she should tell Samantha that her platform is more than capable of carrying all the crates by herself, but then she reminds herself that humans like being involved and feeling useful, so she says nothing instead as they move the containers, making quick work of the load in companionable silence. Honestly, EDI would have preferred to keep talking, her processes always thinking of more observations to make, more inquiries to present, but the exertion required by SAM to move the boxes means that their interaction is limited in that regard.  
  
Still, EDI finds herself surprised by how pleasant it is. 

As they relocate the final crate and Sam stands besides the new pile with hands on hips, admiring their handiwork, she remarks, “Well, that’s that done. Thank you truly, EDI! I couldn’t have done it without you.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” EDI replies. “It was my pleasure.” The words, once upon a time a formality for EDI, are genuine. She has truly enjoyed talking to Samantha again.  
  
“I better let you get back to it,” Sam says with a sigh, disappointment belied in the droop of her shoulders. “But I mean what I said. It was really good to see you again.” EDI knows she is not imagining Samantha’s elevated heart rate and increased temperature. Her measuring instruments are perfectly calibrated. 

In this moment, at the very least, Samantha is herself again. EDI commits herself to catching up with the communications specialist more frequently to ensure the results of her learning today are easily replicated. “It was good to see you as well,” EDI assures her.  


“I’ve missed my family,” Samantha says with a wistful smile, arms now crossed over her chest. She looks smaller, in a way. EDI finds herself surprisingly unable to understand why. 

“You see them every other shore leave,” EDI dead-pans in response. At least she’s learnt that humour helps in these sort of situations.  
  
Samantha snorts. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yes,” EDI confirms. “I do.” 

Sam begins to turn, facing the direction of the next task on her agenda. “Take care, EDI,” she says, her voice slightly higher than its usual register.  
  
“I am incapable of performing with anything less than the utmost precision,” EDI assures her. 

Samantha smiles again before finally moving down the corridor with one last look at EDI over her shoulder. 

EDI begins downloading the schedules of all the former Normandy crew members who are currently in Vancouver to co-ordinate the most optimal date for a reunion.   
  



End file.
